


She, who holds the truth

by Illidria



Category: Fullmetal Alchemist - All Media Types, Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood & Manga
Genre: F/M, LLF Comment Project, day 4: Protection, livmilesweek 2017
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-23
Updated: 2017-11-23
Packaged: 2019-02-06 00:49:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,869
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12805980
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Illidria/pseuds/Illidria
Summary: People protected other all the time, knowing- or unknowingly. And Miles learns that his commander played the game of protection like the easterners played chess: Like a master.





	She, who holds the truth

**Author's Note:**

> Here it is guys, fic number four for this years LivMilesWeek!
> 
> I really hope you like it :D

"If you don't mind me asking, where is your new adjutant from?"

She minded quite a lot, but had rehearsed with him, for an identical answer to such questions.

"Worked with him during last year’s joint training with Western. When he was offered to me for a transfer some time later, I accepted."

The General of Western was related to her mother, an uncle of hers, if she remembered correctly. Was not a racist man, but a coward. Had remembered her words of praise for the Captain and proposed a transfer. Not disclosing his heritage to her. She'd told him that she didn’t care about that.

"Interesting, though I have to admit, this is not what I meant. Do you know, by chance, anything about his heritage?"

Military officers of Ishvalan descent had to inform their employee about it instantly, that's what one of the newer laws since the Ishvalan War stated. She had forbidden him to, of course.

Stayed cool at the other officer’s question, like her reputation demanded.

"I have met his mother during a travel to Central some time ago. Quite openly she talked about how she was half amestrian and half aerugan, after I asked about her interesting accent."

Sensed the others question, not looking away from her men, performing perfectly, even without her guidance.

"And his father? Do you know anything about him?"

Answered, the words rehearsed beforehand, supressing a snide question concerning any kids he might not be sure of existing. Where he'd been almost thirty years ago and whom he'd slept with.

"A man from Creta, as far as I know. Does explain my adjutants proficiency with the language."

Heard the man next to her clear his throat, felt his eyes on her.

"But then from the most western parts of the country?"

Faked a snort, still not looking at the General. Hated herself for her answer, would rather punch the other, his thinly veiled questions. Her own uncertainty concerning the man’s motives.

But heeded her father’s words with it, to never trust General Grumman of East City.

"Seems to be, because his mother is certainly more fair."

Hoping in vain that the questions would cease now, that she could watch her men in peace, how they stomped the eastern forces into the ground. Watched as Captain Miles, her adjutant, ordered a formation through hand-signs, their current enemy confused by the lack of shouting.

"And he's wearing sunglasses all the time because...?"

Tried to keep her tone neutral, disrespect pulling at its edges. But she'd been a soldier before she'd been a General, had painfully learned to hold her tongue around her superiors.

"Snow-blindness-googles, Sir. His eyes were damaged after a mission in freshly fallen snow, quiet severely so. He wears them on doctors’ orders, otherwise he'd risk blindness."

Lied through her teeth, practiced by now. This one question was always asked, wherever she went with him. It made her hate the googles in front of his eyes, were they not a physical manifestation of the peoples’ close-mindedness.

"I see. And he's doing good work?"

Was obliterating the asking man’s troops while he was speaking, the eastern soldiers not standing a chance. Reined in a laugh at that, knowing better than to let her contempt for his weak-willed men show. Having bounced on his knee as a child or not.

"He keeps my office running smoothly, complaints concerning differing roosters have more than halved. Not to mention that he's a skilled strategist."

Watched, as the troop of the man in question bound the flame alchemist at hands and feet, tearing off the gloves while doing so. An impressive feat, though one she'd achieved with barely eight years for the first time.

Roy Mustang was weak when you kicked him in the back of his knees and maybe she'd told Captain Miles that.

Grumman was not done yet, though.

"You'll nominate him for a promotion?"

Something another General had to second at this rank and a clumsy attempt at her loyalty from the fellow General.

"His records speaks for itself!"

Sounding a bit more forceful than she had to, though not regretting it when she saw the man involuntarily flinch a little. There were certainly worse people than Grumman, but to her he wasn’t the cream of the crop either. Knew how to let others work for him, to keep his reputation safe and most certainly knew how to shift blame, if needed.

"Seems like it. I must say, your bears really are well-trained General Armstrong."

Only a hint of remorse in his voice, all of his men and women now on their knees, held at gunpoint.

"Thank you, Sir,!"

At least that she could say honestly.

* * *

 

The entrance-hall alone was bigger than any house he'd ever lived in combined.

Only hesitated for a moment though, falling into step behind his superior, following her through the great hall, astoundingly wide hallways and into a bedroom, compared to what he’d seen up until now, surprisingly small. White and light woods were giving off a comfortable vibe, eyes getting caught on plenty of rose and pink coloured details. The last time he'd been here, after a joint training with eastern, not long after he'd been transferred north, she'd still made him wait in the car.

"Just a second Major, it should be where I left it."

Rummaged through a drawer, while he looked around. Eyes getting caught on swords, hung up on the wall as decoration, all of them wooden. The lengths differed, some had been painted on with bright colours and it became clear to him that those had been the swords she used to train with as a child. Saw several framed pictures on the wall, the ease in them a stark contrast to those he'd seen in the hallways of the building. There were no people standing in rows, perfectly positioned and looking into the camera stiffly.

There was one with her, she couldn’t be older than five, hugging two grey hunting dogs to her. With her sisters in the garden, playing with a jumping rope, both taller than her already. One where she sat with her brother in her lap, the latter still a baby. Another one, she had to be a pre-teen already, with her youngest sister. The little girl was grasping for her hair, both laughing. One where she danced ballet, apparently taken unknowingly. One that showed her as a teen, standing close to a bearded man, both brandishing their swords.

"That was my teacher. Claimed to be a hundred when he started training me as a kid and is still alive and kicking today.”

Felt caught where she stood next to him, looking at the picture too, smiling faintly. Stammered an apology, waved away by her.

"I invited you in, it's only normal to look. But if you'd move a bit to the side?"

Did as he was told, face still burning red, watching as she rolled away a small, pink carpet and fumbled at the parquet.

"Sir, what are you..."

Watched when she let out a triumphant huff, the floorboard she was prying on coming loose, revealing a hollow underneath. Leaned forward without thinking about it, peering into the small space, illuminated by the light of the room. There were books, a few pieces of clothing, something that looked suspiciously like a diary and a bag of sweets, the latter looking like its best time passed a few years ago.

She pulled out the diary-like looking something and a photo album. He handed her the bag she’d given to him when leaving the hotel, stuffing the things in and taking the envelope, she’d brought with her from Northern, stowing it away in the small space.

The words pushing forward, his thoughts and judgement lagging behind.

"Is this really the best place for documents of such importance?"

His fears alleviated when she snorted in response.

"Believe me, nobody even knows that this hole here exists. There’s no place safer, especially seeing as nobody enters this room anyways."

Took a chance with her seemingly good mood, asking what was on his mind.

"And you always stored important stuff in there? Diaries, sweets, things your parents wouldn’t have stayed away from?"

Watched as she put the floorboard into place again, rolling the carpet over it and getting up from the floor.

"As a kid, yes, though I never kept a diary. This," and she pointed at the backpack the little book was now in, golden latch and a unicorn on the cover," is my mission-book. I wrote down my operations as part of the special forces into it. We all had something like this."

Gulped, audibly.

"Everything? In one place?!"

She shrugged.

"We all do this, though aware how dangerous it is. But all files are blacked concerning these missions, which means that these things are basically our written testimonies, should things go awry."

Thought differently about the little book now, having looked so innocent from the outside.

"And you need it now because?"

Her tone became a little bit more dangerous than before.

"Because I need it, Major. There are times when you want it close to you."

Did not ask further, only offering the backpack to her, at which she shook her head.

"I have the utmost trust in you Major. Now come, they're probably already waiting."

Followed her out of the room, through hallways, eyes now not taking in the scenery, trained on her back instead. The tension in her shoulders. This thing at his back contained everything, was more than just dangerous in the wrong hands. To Amestris, to her.

"Olivier, dear, why did you not greet us first?!"

The man in the entrance hall her father, recognising him from pictures. A stout man, with an impressive beard and eyes a lot like his daughters. A gaze, just as sly, seizing him up with one long look. Gestured grandly, hugged her, pressing a kiss to her temple. She let him, though made no move herself.

"Important business Father, as always. You, off all people, should know."

Miles had read her insinuations, her moods those last few weeks, followed the newspapers, too. Something was brewing in the political realms of the country, since Aerugo had made accusations that a little more than a decade ago one of their diplomats had been killed by an amestrian assassin. It fell into a time when she'd still been a member of the militaries special forces.

He knew quite a lot about it, not everything though, but was aware that the military did not have your back, should one of your missions be traced back to you. That would mean admitting to taking part in such practices, which no government he knew had ever done. Did not dare to say anything now, with her father seemingly so involved. The man had probably warned her even, of what he didn’t know, because she'd simply not have travelled to central just for a few papers to stow away. Would have tasked him with that.

Did not listen in on their chatter, only read faces. Saw a worried father, an annoyed General. A plan he was a part of, but not planned to partake in.

A month back she'd offered to him her first name when they were in private, the same kind of annoyance skittering over her face when he fell into old routines during these times, calling her General.

Walked out with her when the time came, got into the waiting car and drove off, both silent. Would board a train northbound soon, but before that getting their stuff from the hotel. Packed up in silence too, until he got to the contents of the bag, the things they got from her little hidden space.

"Where should I put it, Olivier?"

Did not slip, tried not to think of what happened in this room at night, instead focusing on now. Her sigh following his question a long one.

"I have a favour to ask, Javed. A big favour."

The way she said his first name endearing him to her anew, answering readily before she even asked.

"It shall be yours."

Not reaping laughter, but a serious gaze from her. Knew what she wanted to say before she did, not acting surprised either.

"Keep the book for me, make sure it’s safe."

Nodded, now equally as severe, putting it between his belongings. Holding out the other item, the photo album.

"And this?"

Stretched out her hand, taking it and stowing it away.

" _This_ is my alibi."

He nodded in understanding, knew that it was her excuse for why she'd been at the estate, that its contents had to be fairly harmless. Worry and uncertainty winding through his stomach when looking at what he knew, what he learned today. Anxiety hitting him slightly, though he pushed it down. Was scared for her, because she wasn’t.

Getting off their train at North City station, members of the military police were waiting for her, politely and discreetly asking her to please come with them.

She complied.

* * *

"So, let’s go over the facts one more time."

No sound escaping her, another eyeroll stopped by sheer force of will.

Crossed her legs and set primly in her chair, commanding the attention of the over fifty officers in the room. The officer in charge of this farce gesturing to another, apparently his adjutant, who immediately started to read questions aloud.

"In your enlistment-file it reads that you speak aerugan fluently and you indeed do?"

"Yes."

"In the year 1895 you have been stationed near the aerugan border?"

"Yes."

"Major Maximoff trained you from age sixteen?"

"Yes."

A murmur went through the people in the room, few having completed training with the man, so few you could count them on one hand. The unlikely ability to breathe through mud had saved her life more often than she would’ve thought.

"You survived his training?"

Threw the officer an incredulous look, paired with a raised eyebrow.

"You are proficient with a wide range of weaponry, highly specialised in close combat, bladed techniques and heavy weaponry?"

"Yes."

"You have served as part of the special forces of the military for eight years, starting aged eighteen?"

"No, because such an institution does not exist within the military."

This was a show-case, she knew what she had to say and when. What those blue-coats in attendance wanted to hear. What they wanted those of the press attending to hear. If she would be found guilty of the assassination she was tried for, she'd end up dead. And when she admitted to there being assassins at all within the military, she'd end up dead too.

"You have visited Aerugo before?"

"Yes."

"You have visited Aerugo in the year 1895?"

It was pure chance, that she was tried for something she hadn’t done. Made lying easier for her. A man had fallen victim to her that year, in Aerugo too, but not the one they were asking about.

"No."

"You have assassinated Mr. Andrea Dorinelli?"

"No."

Miles was here too, had kept her safeguard close and well-away from prying eyes, apparently. Mourned that she was playing him a little too, though was sure of him and his feelings on the matter, sure that he wouldn’t hold it against her. Had learned through him, respectively through a hidden message handed to her, that Briggs and her family’s home had been searched, but that they'd only found some files, not very interesting to those in central.

The officer reading the same boring questions from a sheet of paper started to falter. It piqued her interest, meant something new she could answer to curtly. Would hopefully end this charade, so she could get back to work.

"Are you, or were you, in a relation with an aerugan, or a person of aerugan descend?"

Answered with a neutral voice, like all the other questions, though her stomach coiled. The question handed to his adjutant by the man in charge of this “investigation”.

"No."

This wasn’t about her anymore, realised quickly that they were probably trying to drag Miles into this. He was the person of partly aerugan descend she worked most closely with, had always been eyed with curiosity by those around her. And she’d bet her inheritance that it wasn’t for his fine glutes in 99 percent of cases.

"Do you know aerugans or people of aerugan descent?"

"Plenty. Do you want me to list them off?"

A cough coming from the man leading this investigation, not letting his adjutant answer.

"Only the most notable."

"Claudio of Aerugo, Polinia and Plinius of Aerugo, Generals Bechtem, Handry and Oleander are the most notable, I guess. Of partly aerugan descent are, as far as I know, Generals Hakuro and Sinato, as well as several of my soldiers, including my own adjutant and also a good portion of the staff at Armstrong Manor."

The statement doing what she hoped for, by stealing her current enemies thunder. Heard indignant whispers amongst the ranks at her bold move, the audacity to name important people of the Amestrian Government with such a descent something they hadn’t thought she’d dare. Inwardly applauded herself for mentioning the name of someone she had indeed assassinated, making the list impressive, but not lying outright.

The man in charge took a different route now, the only one not stomped by her answer, questioning further.

"Your said your own adjutant is of aerugan descent?"

"I know what I said."

The words slipping out, thought there was laughter in the crowd now. She'd at least won a few over, but she'd need more. The man asking the questions was unfazed. She’d played this part of his heritage, hoping to leave them overlooking the more glaring part of it. Maybe “Armstrong’s aerugan adjutant” would become word of mouth here in Central

"You trust him to not be in on that, maybe a wolf in sheep’s clothing?"

Had enough, and said as much.

"Why would a man of aerugan descend help me bring down an aerugan diplomat, one that always fought for peace with us, mind you? A man who had hoped tried his best to not be stomped into the ground by the amestrian army?"

The officers cry of "I'm the one asking questions here!" drowned out by a bout of laughter coming from the ranks around her. Pointing out the military prowess of your own force always flattered the geezers in the ranks, many of them having fought against Aerugo in their time.

The officer asking her the improvised questions now furious, the lad next to him, who’d read off a sheet of paper before, moving away a little.

"General Armstrong, you honestly want to tell us that you had nothing to do with it?! You know that a witness came forth, describing someone with looks and skills a lot like yours? That the timeframe and capabilities fit perfectly? Do you not have a mission book, in which we could read of your innocence?"

Now knew what this charade was played for, that they did not want to see her dead, but wanted to know who she'd done in and then see her dead. Tilting her head to the side, looking at the man coolly.

"I do not have what you call a mission book. I kept a diary as a teen, with a unicorn on it. Do you want that? I picked it up from my family’s home just a few days ago."

Gestured to the ranks, rampant with laughter, locking eyes with Miles. He looked unsure, though got up when she nodded, pulling the little book from inside his uniform jacket, the glitter on the unicorn’s mane glimmering under the light of Central Commands courtroom.

Handed it to an officer, who in turn handed it over to the officer in charge. Watched, as the man pried the lock open, began to leaf through the pages, looking more disgruntled by the second. Threw the thing shut on the table, now burning with rage, the crowd of blue-coats around them not stopping their laughter.

"I will not make a mockery of this courtroom, by reading aloud your prepubescent words!"

Which just served her goal to do just this, the atmosphere now in her favour. Noticed Grumman to the side, one of the few not laughing, albeit looking amused. Was aware that she could not beat the master at such charades with her own, but sensed approval for her game nonetheless.

The affair was broken by another officer coming into the room, whispering with the head of investigations, who then announced that he'd now read aloud a statement from the man who'd been witness to the person thought to have assassinated the diplomat years ago.

Got up with ease after the words of Prince Claudio of Aerugo were read aloud to the room, making a mental note to thank her father for his quick work of getting in touch with the man.

Glad that he was still ready to help, even though she’d been nothing but rude to him the last time they’d met.

Miles was next to her quickly, picking up her diary and falling into step behind her.

Felt guilty for having used his trust in such away, jotting down another note in her mind, reminding herself to apologize.

* * *

 

Their compartment in the train was private, the door locked, curtains drawn.

Miles had taken off his glasses, red gaze boring into hers, a question burning on his mind, not daring to ask it before, people always around.

"Which one was the alibi?"

Watched as a smile played along her mouth, in equal parts sly and apologetic.

"Both were, in a way. The diary is partly written in the code, is the key so to speak. Though most would be deterred by my teen-gibberish."

Grinned to himself, not cross, just amazed.

"So, the album is really it?"

Looked in keen silence when she pulled it out of her bag, handing it over. Leafed through it, pictures of vacations and animals, of siblings and toys.

"How is that a code?!"

A swirl of her fingers telling him to take out one of the pictures and read the back. The words seeming normal to him at first, fitting the picture, sounding like what a kid would write about something like that. When he read it for the third time, he noticed irregularities in her writing. After the seventh read-through, he noticed a pattern. Thought about what he knew about her, used some knowledge about languages he and she both knew and re-read the words again and again. After half an hour, a gasp escaped him.

"You did that?!"

Faux-disappointment filling her face.

"You read my diary!"

"Of course I didn’t!"

His honestly shocked face seemingly convincing her, talking a bit more, reading the back of the photos, astounded with what was revealed. Thought to catch a glimmer of pride in her eyes, though did not know for what.

Silence falling after a few hours, after taking his time to come to terms with her truth.

"People asked me about my partly aerugan mother yesterday, after one of the meetings."

Her smirk making his stomach flutter.

**Author's Note:**

> This story is part of [LLF Comment Project](https://longlivefeedback.tumblr.com/llfcommentproject), whose goal is to improve communication between readers and authors. I invite you to leave:
> 
> _Short comments_   
>  _Long comments_   
>  _Questions_   
>  _Constructive criticism_   
>  _Reader-reader interaction_
> 
> I reply to every comment, though it sometimes takes me a day, or two.
> 
> I thank you for reading this fic of mine through to the end. I appreciate all comments and kudos and should you want to get into direct contact with me [this is my tumblr](http://illidria.tumblr.com/)


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